


Attempted Arson

by lightningwaltz



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Banter, Blow Jobs, Candles, Established Relationship, First Time, Galo is a goddamn delight??, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Smut, Snowed In, Wax Play, and I only want good things for Lio??, vague attempt at post-canon worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:21:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21739030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningwaltz/pseuds/lightningwaltz
Summary: Galo and Lio get snowed in.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 7
Kudos: 253





	Attempted Arson

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Findarato](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findarato/gifts).



> Finally got a chance to see Promare yesterday and _wow_ it was great. Loved the characters, loved their chemistry, and I had to write something for this fandom because I'm so curious about what life looks like after canon ends. Not that I got too, too deep into that because I also mostly wanted to just write ridiculous PWP.
> 
> Gifting this to Findarato because she encouraged me to see this in the first place!

Galo doesn’t really drink tea, but tonight he ends up with a strange need for it. This isn’t because he wants yet another break from his coursework. Nope, these things have nothing to do with one another. 

The mug scrapes against the microwave and water sloshes onto his fingers. The windows of his apartment rattle, and he’s keenly aware that they’re a thin shield from the blizzard. Galo can see snowflakes dancing furiously in the streetlamps, glimmering like pale fireflies. There’s a minute left on the timer when all the lights in his apartment stutter off - on - off- on and ultimately off for good. The microwave’s humming stops right along with them. Galo ends up drinking a cup of lukewarm plain water in the dark. 

At least he has a good reason to stop studying. 

Galo does need to see his way around, though. He doesn’t want to use up the battery on his phone, and he only has one candle. He got it a few months back when Burning Rescue did a gag gift exchange and he’s never used it since. Supposedly it’s meant to smell like mildew and dust. Galo doubts this is true until he holding the match to the candle’s wick and promptly sneezes. The thing has a pretty pathetic radius of light, too. He reminisces on all the impressive fires he’s seen over the years, and how they put this candle to shame. 

That thought leads to him wanting to call Lio. Galo presses that number, not sure why he’s holding his breath while waiting for an answer. It has nothing to do with instinct. Galo knows there’s a thin thread of smoke, winding its way to the ceiling like strands of a spider’s web. 

“Hello?” Lio’s voice sounds scratched. 

“Were you napping?” 

“Yeah? You can thank jet lag for it.” 

They both go quiet and Galo wonders if they’re both remembering the same thing. Lio is often deployed to regions all over the place in order to offer his expert advice on how to help and rehabilitate former Burnish. A few weeks ago he’d been sent to a different _continent_ , though. Galo had sent him off with a spontaneous (and lengthy) kiss that had nothing to do with resurrection, and everything to do with a weird paranoia they’d never see each other again. The topic hadn’t come up in any of their text messages since, and he’d been on-call the day Lio returned to Promepolis. 

“Power’s off here,” Galo says at last. “Is it the same for you?” 

“Uh, good question.” There’s rustling on the other end of the line, and it’s not hard to imagine Lio unfurling from a cocoon made of blankets. “Yeah, my electricity’s out.” 

“I only have one candle,” Galo says. “I think tonight’s going to be boring because I can’t see much of anything.”

“Tonight’s going to be _cold_ that’s for sure. Holy shit, I’m freezing.” There’s a tinny rhythmic sound and Galo belatedly realizes Lio’s teeth are rattling. 

“Wait- are you-” This is all very concerning even though he’s sure Lio has enough clothing and blankets. “What are you wearing?” 

Another silence ensues. This one is overly long. “Galo,” Lio says after a while, “is that why you called? For phone sex?” 

Galo had been cupping his hand over the candle, capturing its heat in his palm. His fingers slip over the edge, landing decisively in the molten wax. He yelps, but it’s not because of pain. This is nothing compared to magma, after all. He should know. 

“No, I asked because you said you were cold.” 

“Ah.” Lio doesn’t sound convinced. “Well I’m wearing boxers and a sweatshirt. Does that make you feel better?” 

“Not really.” Galo knows from that description that Lio’s legs are almost entirely bare and he’s probably standing outside the bed. One’s limb’s made up a large ratio of one’s body, and Lio is basically _all_ legs. “You should at least put a hoodie on since heat escapes from the head and also you should know I’d want to have actual sex with you before I even thought about phone sex.” 

Galo didn’t mean to say that last bit, but he doesn’t really regret it either. Especially not when he hears coughing on the other end of the line. He flicks bits of wax off his fingers and wonders what it would look like if a more exacting hand peeled it away. Would you see a perfect recreation of his fingerprints? 

“You gave me a lot to unpack there, Galo.” Lio’s voice is rich with amusement. 

“How _dare_ I do that when you probably haven’t even unpacked your suitcase?” 

“Oh I’ve unpacked it, I’m not an animal.” Lio curses under his breath. “Aaaand all those clothes are probably still sitting there wet in my washer.” 

“Nothing you can do about it now.” 

“No, but I can bring you candles. You probably won’t be surprised to learn I have a few of those lying around.” Lio says this next bit with carefully curated nonchalance; “and maybe we can do something that will let me to earn phone sex privileges in the future?” 

Galo couldn’t tell you what he said next. Maybe it was something like _what is it with you and phone sex?_ More likely it was a bunch of guttural, confused vowels strung together. He must have agreed to it, though, because Lio knocks on the door within a quarter of an hour. 

Guilt slams into Galo when he sees Lio there on the threshold. The blizzard sky is an enormous purple canvas behind him. His coat, gloves and scarves don’t seem at all adequate for the weather. He has a bag clutches to his chest and Galo can hear the candles rattling together. When they step back inside, snow melts out of his hair and splatters across Galo’s toes. The dust-scented candle tinges his hair gold. 

“That smells awful,” Lio says. 

“Oh, yeah. I got it as a joke.” Galo blows it out, plunging them into darkness. He realizes his mistake a moment too late, and nearly jumps out of his skin when Lio’s ice-cold fingers touch his wrist. 

“Easy,” Lio says, not unkindly, and plucks Galo’s phone out of his hands. 

Lio uses the cell’s glow in order to facilitate the lighting of the first candle. Then he moves on to the rest. Soon enough the apartment is awash with honeyed, wavering light. Galo watches as Lio works his way through match after match, and thinks about how he used to be able to make flames from his own body. Lio is deceptively youthful in appearance, but it turns out candlelight emphasizes the angles of his face. You could see all his stressful years gathered in the shadows there. 

You could also seem him shaking a bit, even if he’s out of the wind and the worst of the cold. Galo slings some pajama pants over one arm and a couple of sweatshirts over the other. Lio puts dutifully puts them on, but with an air like he’s doing Galo a favor. 

They end up sitting on some blankets in the living room area. They’re as far as possible from the windows. Galo distantly recalls that a bathtub is probably the safest place during a windstorm, but he’s not about to suggest they hole up there instead. Instead he drinks his liquor and feels it warm him all the way down to his toes. 

“I could have come to you,” Galo says. “I probably should have.” 

“Eh, I was curious about where you lived.” 

“But I’m curious about where _you_ live.”

“Next time.” 

Galo spends a moment or two pleased at the suggestion of a _‘next time’_ , but then wishes he’d cleaned up a little when Lio picks up a candle and uses it to scrutinize the coursework that’s laying around. 

“You’re doing light reading about arsonists? Didn’t you learn enough about that long ago?” 

“I was mostly taught about Burnish methods.” Galo runs a hand through his hair. “Well, I was mostly taught the official story about Burnish methods. There are still arsonists who set fire the old-fashioned way and they aren’t going anywhere.” 

Lio’s face twists. “I heard something about that. Nowadays there’s a bunch of arsonists that lie and say they’re Burnish?” 

“Yeah, to confuse and scare people. Also there’s the ordinary people who set fires for revenge or money.” Somehow his dry reading sprung to life when he spoke about it with Lio. “Today I had to read about the history of firefighting. I should have paid more attention to how the job has always had shitty people involved in it before.” 

Lio moves closer until their sides are touching. “Do you have an example?” 

“So ancient Rome had firefighters, right?” Galo picks up one of the candles. “Except the dude who started it was some super wealthy guy. He would take all his firefighters out to the site of some burning house and extort tons of money from the owners before he’d let his firefighters get to work. He became even wealthier that way.” 

Galo’s knuckles sting and he realizes he’d gotten so annoyed at a long-dead rich guy that his hand had been shaking. As a result, hot wax dots his skin in a few places. 

“Careful.” Lio pulls the candle away and puts it on the floor. 

“It doesn’t hurt.” 

Lio shrugs. “Pain is pain. I’ve seen how you yell when you bite your tongue while eating pizza. And you probably wouldn’t like it if I poured wax all over you.” 

That inspires a mental image that makes Galo’s mouth go a bit dry. 

“But!” Galo uses his foot to kick all his coursework away. This is all a part of fire safety, after all. His books were way too close to the candles. “How have you been?! It’s been a while!” 

“Busy,” Lio says in a clipped way. 

“Er.” Galo just sits there. “Was it that bad?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” Lio says. “Seriously.” 

“Too late. I like worrying about you.” That sounds wrong.

Lio thinks so too. “You sadist.” 

“Isn’t that more of a masochist thing?” 

“You tell me.” Lio absently tugs at his outermost collar and clearly decides to change the subject. “You gave me a lot of shirts. I didn’t know you owned any shirts.” 

“You’ve seen me in shirts,” Galo splutters. “I’m wearing one now.” 

“You sure are. That’s too bad.” 

It’s a clear challenge, but Galo doesn’t mind challenges. Action is always better than patiently waiting for the ice to crack under your feet. He pulls his shirt off, making sure to toss it away from the candles. Lio sits up, and swings one of his legs over in order to straddle one of Galo’s thighs. 

Galo links his fingers together behind Lio’s head and reels him in. His lips are slick with chapstick, and some of Galo’s hair gets caught between their mouths. He brushes it away so they can just kiss, kiss, and kiss without thinking about much of anything. Lio’s hands are wandering Galo’s torso, and they’re still freezing. There’s something unnerving about Lio having cold hands. It makes Galo remember those ice shackles. He holds onto Lio’s wrists and then maneuvers them so they’re resting on the small of Galo’s back. That part of the body is warm, and he knows this from infrared seekers. Galo opens his mouth to explain, but Lio stops him with yet another kiss. 

They both taste like the alcohol. Galo reaches under Lio’s clothing in order to run his palms over skin flecked with scars and burn marks. Lio’s hands have similar blemishes. This is just what happens when you’re someone who tries to control fire. He clasps his hands onto Lio’s hips, making him rise up to a kneeling position. Turns out that- when Lio isn’t in a combative mood- it’s incredibly easy for Galo to lift him. It also turns out that it’s rewarding to push up all of those shirts and suck on one of Lio’s nipples. He makes a noise that is soft, but sharp with delighted surprise. Galo wraps his arms around Lio’s lower body, bracing him, holding him up. 

After a while he raises Lio until he’s basically standing. It’s Galo’s turn to be on his knees, which he does gladly enough. He scrabbles at various bits of clothing until he’s able to bend his head down and take Lio in to his mouth. 

In some ways this is all happening at a feverish pace. In other ways, they’ve waited way too long to do this. This is obvious by Lio’s harsh grip on Galo’s hair. Galo pulls back up to suck on the head of Lio’s cock, hoping to coax him into moaning. He’s not quite successful, but it’s still worth it for the way Lio hisses Galo’s name. 

Eventually Galo has to pull back to breathe, even if Lio is audibly disappointed. 

“Sorry, gotta practice breathing through my nose, I guess.” 

“Practice on me all that you want.” Lio’s expression is so fond it’s like staring into the blue-white part of a particularly intense flame. He touches his thumb to Galo’s lips. “Your mouth looks kind of bruised.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m doing this with enthusiasm! Don’t worry about me.”

“I like worrying about you,” Lio echoes their earlier conversation. He looks like he finally understands something. 

“Is that so?” Galo says, standing up and throwing Lio over his shoulder in the process. The candles and the blankets make for a pretty atmosphere, but it’s probably best to move things to the bed. “I think you just like seeing what you do to me.” 

“That too.” Lio’s laughter is a rare and intoxicating thing. 

So are Lio’s moans. Galo finally earns them when he’s got too slicked-up fingers deep inside Lio’s body. It took a bit of maneuvering and a lot of experimenting, but Galo is nothing if not persistent. He sucks on Lio’s inner thighs until he leaves some bruises of his own.

“Agh- _Galo_ \- just fuck me already.” Lio’s hands clench onto his shirts like they’re a life raft. Somehow all of those have stayed on even though Lio has been naked from the waist down for a while now. 

“But I like seeing you relaxed.” Galo isn’t taunting Lio. Not really. He just enjoys looking up, seeing that Lio’s temples are soaked with sweat. Knowing Lio is only worrying about whether Galo will let him get off. Galo realizes he could probably keep Lio in this state for a good long while, methodically wringing all the stress out of him. 

But, Lio is also a former Burnish. Galo pictures fire spreading from Lio’s body, licking its way up the frames of this house, burning everything down to ash. He’s still picturing this when he spreads Lio’s legs wide and sinks his cock deep inside. 

Lio lets out a sigh before pulling Galo down. Their kiss is a sloppy thing, all tongues and teeth. As Galo slams in and out, his chest rubs against Lio’s sweatshirts. Even the outermost one is damp with perspiration. 

“Wanna name this position something?” 

Lio yanks on his own hair. “Galo, _no_. This’s just missionary, right?” 

“How about something like ‘He Bestrides the World Like-’” 

Galo’s great idea is cut short by Lio’s hand being shoved against his mouth. Too bad. He comes moments later, moaning into Lio’s palm. Lio follows moments later. He’s quieter than Galo - obviously – but he holds on tight like this moment could disappear into ash. 

Soon after, Galo finally gets Lio out of all the different shirts. It feels like unwrapping a Christmas present burdened with too much packaging. Galo then proceeds to drape himself over Lio, sharing his warmth even though they’re both thoroughly overheated. He buries his race in Lio’s neck, breathing deeply. He remembers Lio’s scentless candles and how they had a smell that was pleasant and impossible to define. 

He must have dozed, because he’s on his back the next moment he’s aware of anything. Lio is sitting cross-legged next to him, cupping one of the candles in his hands. He looks lovely and pensive all at once, like some old drawing of a martyr or a saint. 

“I’ve been okay,” Lio says, “that’s how I should have answered your question back then. Some of my people are struggling with the new reality, though. We all wanted to be treated like normal people but it’s one thing to want something and another to get it.”

Lio dips his fingers in the candle wax, then reaches out to run his fingers across Galo’s thigh. The wax has already cooled enough that it doesn’t sting, but they’re still warm. The suggestion of pleasurable pain is still there. 

“Is it because they wanted you gone less than a year ago?” Galo’s heart skips a beat as he says this. He could have been counted as one of those people, too. 

“Not exactly. Wow, you really have the best hips.” Lio adds some more wax to his fingers and touches the body part in question. “Anyway, yeah, when I pictured my future, I tended to see myself as dead after fighting the good fight. Maybe I’d be living on some remote island with the rest of the Burnish if I got really lucky. I never saw myself advising authorities in eastern Europe.” He sighs. “Apparently I had to fuck it out before I was able to figure out how to say any of that. So. Thank you?”

Galo understands. Promepolis is trying to uproot corruption and - for some unknown reason – the people in charge want his input. He wants to tell people that he knows how to put out _literal_ fires, not metaphorical fires. He definitely hadn’t noticed dishonesty when it had been smiling right at him. 

He tries and fails to put this into words. Instead, he just puts his hand on Lio’s shoulder. 

“Also ever since the word got out that Burnish powers come from aliens I keep being hassled by people who want to know if I think aliens built the pyramids? Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Do you think they did?”

“What? Are you serious?” Lio kneels over Galo’s thighs. “Oh god, you’re serious.”

“I’m serious about … being glad I got to know what you’re really like. And also glad I know the truth about everything now.”

Lio looks very solemn when he reaches for Galo’s hand. He turns it so he can kiss the palm, light and lingering all at once. Then he laughs, and it freezes Galo’s blood more than the blizzard outside. He drips a tiny amount of wax directly onto Galo’s skin. It’s painful, of course. But other parts of Galo spring to attention, and not out of agony. 

“You’re right that I like seeing what I do to you, Galo.”

Somehow this all culminates in Lio slowly and deliberatedly riding Galo into the mattress. He’s holding on to the candle all the while, never letting it drop. Galo stares in naked fascination.

Is this a category of arson? Attempted arson? Despite being an expert, Galo isn’t sure. He just knows he’s willing to become an authority in all things related to Lio.


End file.
